


it'll be you and i

by shirozora



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, based on a thing I drew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1729010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirozora/pseuds/shirozora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mornings like this always hurt, no matter how many times Sam tells Steve that he’s okay, he’s fine, they’ll heal, let’s go before the trail disappears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it'll be you and i

**Author's Note:**

> Ummmmmmmmmmm I drew [a thing](http://shirozora-draws-shit.tumblr.com/post/85558564516/where-you-go-i-go-a-story-came-out-of-this) and finally - _finally_ \- posted the story that formed in my head while I wrangled with the canvas. I hadn't written anything brand new in a while, so it was a real nightmare getting the words out of my head and into the doc. 
> 
> Also, hello again Cap fandom my old ~~brief~~ friend.

“You’re giving me that look again.”

“No, I’m not.” 

Steve shoves his scant belongings into the duffel bag at his feet, trying not to think of the bruises disappearing under Sam’s shirt. Last night’s fight with HYDRA agents was a tough one and they came out of it bruised and aching. Steve woke up with just a touch of soreness on his jaw and fading red on his knuckles, but Sam is limping around the motel room, acting nonchalant about the discolored smears on his face and all over his body. 

Mornings like this always hurt, no matter how many times Sam tells Steve that he’s okay, he’s fine, they’ll heal, let’s go before the trail disappears.

“ _Steve_.”

He drops his gaze. “Right, sorry.”

They finish packing and toss their bags into the trunk of their rental before checking out. The morning is cold, pale blue and yellow, and Steve can’t stop looking at the bruise on Sam’s face, at the careful way he holds himself.

“You’re doing it again,” Sam says.

Steve sighs. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He still holds the lobby door open.

The receptionist doesn’t bat an eyelash at the state of their appearance. She takes their key cards and drones, “Thank you for staying, come again.”

Steve follows Sam back out into the parking lot, so he’s ready when Sam stops, shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, squares his shoulders, and turns around to let the other shoe drop.

“You know I volunteered for this,” Sam says without preamble. 

“I know.” 

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly.

Several weeks of flushing out HYDRA nests and two brief sightings of Bucky later, Sam’s still here and Steve doesn’t know if he should be grateful or feel guilty. He probably wouldn’t have lasted this long on his own, but he knows that if he and Natasha hadn’t show up at Sam’s doorstep, Sam would be back in D.C., still working at the VA and contemplating the destruction of the Triskelion and SHIELD as an outsider, safe and out of harm’s way. 

Something in his face must’ve given his thoughts away, because Sam steps close and says, “Remember what I said about Riley? I watched him get shot out of the sky and I couldn’t do a thing to save him. But _you_ can do something. You can get Bucky back.”

Steve sways a bit into Sam’s space, feels himself unravel slowly at the conviction in Sam’s voice. He still protests, thinking about the bruises and blood and near misses. “I can’t keep asking this of you. This isn’t your fight.”

“I’m not here because Captain America needs my help,” Sam says. “This time I’m here because Steve Rogers does. Because I know what it’s like to have your whole world thrown, to have nothing make sense anymore and have nobody around who gets it. I’ve been there, man, I know. I’m here as long as you need me.”

“But is that worth getting punched in the face and tossed out of the second story window and-”

“Blowing up three helicarriers, wiping out the world’s most powerful intelligence organization, and spending over a month on the road looking for your best friend who might not want to be found?” Sam says. He smiles, slow and soft, and Steve’s heart beats a little faster. “Yeah, it’s worth it.”

“Why?” 

Sam shrugs as nonchalantly as he can, looks at Steve steadily and says, “You’re worth it.”

The admission rings in Steve’s head, numbing and warming him from the inside out. It’s not just the words of someone willing to follow him through the dark and shine, the oath and promise of a fellow soldier and friend. It’s Sam saying he’ll take whatever the world throws at him in stride, he’ll go wherever Steve goes, because _Steve_ is worth it all. 

“Really?” he asks. The question is a tentative, hopeful whisper.

“Yeah,” and Sam’s smile is so bright, eyes so warm and reassuring, so _safe_ , “really.”

Steve wants to kiss him, and he does, curves his hand along the side of Sam’s face and brings him close. Like everything else about Sam, his mouth is warm and steady, promising so much that was missing from Steve’s life for too many years. It feels like the world is starting to make sense again, just like Sam said.

“See?” Sam says when they eventually pull back. “Totally worth it.”

Steve laughs shakily, face flushed and lips tingling. “Is that how it is?”

“That’s how it is.” Sam leans in, murmurs, “Where you go, I go. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. The guilt still lingers but is muted, tucked away. He brushes his thumb along the edge of the bruise on Sam’s face, breathes out, “Yeah,” and kisses him again.


End file.
